


Levelheaded

by firesonic152



Series: Other Prompts [2]
Category: Psych
Genre: Lassie being upset, Multi, Shawn being dumb, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesonic152/pseuds/firesonic152
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lassiter prided himself on staying calm and at least mildly collected most of the time. He was a cop, after all, the head detective, and needed to be able to keep a clear head when solving cases (never mind the fact that he usually ended up shouting someone down every time).</p><p>In any case, a call from Shawn Spencer was of no particular concern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Levelheaded

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the dialogue prompts "Please come and get me" and "I can't breathe."
> 
> First time writing for these two, I hope it's okay.

Lassiter prided himself on staying calm and at least mildly collected most of the time. He was a cop, after all, the  _head detective_ , and needed to be able to keep a clear head when solving cases (never mind the fact that he usually ended up shouting someone down every time).

In any case, a call from Shawn Spencer was of no particular concern. He got annoying calls from the pseudo-psychic all the time and he liked to think that the various tips and warnings were just as false as the idiot’s career (his reluctance to accept Shawn’s help absolutely had nothing to do with his reluctance to depend on anyone because he could not  _afford_ to place that much trust in other people, not with how much was on the line, not with how little he was willing to expose himself and this line of thought was getting way too off-topic).

Flipping open his phone, he answered it with an exasperated, “What is it now, Spencer?”

His fingers were placed strategically so that he could shut the phone as soon as Shawn had started saying something ridiculous, but it never happened. All he could hear was some kind of muffled gasping on the other end of the line and something like worry pricked at his mind - it was foreign, but perhaps not unfamiliar.

"Spencer?" he repeated. "If this is a prank, I will have you know that I—"

"Lassie," Shawn cut in. His voice was hoarse,  _rasping_ even. Lassiter certainly did not tense up a little at the sound. “Lassie I—” He paused, seemed to take a deep breath, and continued in a whisper. “Please come and get me.”

Lassiter grimaced, but he was  _not_ concerned - why should he be concerned about someone like  _Shawn_ , someone who was nothing more than an irritating impostor seeking attention? “What have you gotten yourself into  _now_? I’m in the middle of an actual case right now, I can’t just drop everything to serve your whims.”

“ _Carlton_ ,” Shawn said,  _pleading_ , and Lassiter’s throat constricted at hearing his first name in that hushed tone. “Look, I can’t… This is serious, I can’t  _breathe_.” _  
_

There was an awkward silence. Finally, Lassiter found the breath to ask, “What?”

"I need your help."

Lassiter distractedly reached for the nearest chair and sat down. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he replied, “Spencer, I’m going to need more information than that. What do you mean by ‘you can’t breathe’?”

Shawn made a suppressed huff of frustration. “Okay fine. It’s Jules.”

"Detective O’Hara?" Lassiter would deny that his blood ran cold at that to the ends of the earth. "Spencer, what have you gotten yourself—"

"She rejected me, man!" Shawn blurted out.

"She… rejected you?"

"Yeah." He groaned. "Dude I finally asked her out and we were having dinner, I even took her to  _Mario’s_ , even though we’re probably not gonna be able to pay for cable this month and it was going so well, I was like John Travolta, turning over a new leaf for her - although she’s still a cop, so she can’t be Olivia Newton-John, but still—”

"Spencer, is there a point to you telling me this?" Lassiter interrupted, determinedly ignoring how his steady hands were starting to tremble ever-so-slightly.

Shawn exhaled harshly, losing his bravado for a moment, voice sinking into a tone of defeat. “I told her that I, uh, that I like her, maybe even love her, and she said no. So now I’m in the bathroom and I need a ride back since Gus took the car to go hang out with his sister or something and I can’t go with Jules ‘cause that would be—”

Lassiter did not feel like hearing the rest of that sentence and slapped his phone shut with more force than necessary. “Waste of time,” he grumbled to himself as he stood and grabbed his coat. “Complete waste of time,” he repeated as he strode down the hall of the police department, glaring at anyone who dared look his way.

When Juliet found him in his apartment the next morning, delirious from the pain of his hangover and disoriented with lack of sleep, he still clung to his claim of levelheadedness.


End file.
